Not In Kansas Anymore...

Click your heels, and see if home is where you hang your hat, or somewhere else inside yourself as this simple, postmodern girl takes on L.A.

Thursday, September 04, 2008

The title of this post is: Karma and The Angelina Jolie Technique

Part I

My poor little Brother. While I often disparage him for being a royally fucked up PITA as young adult and an indisputable brat growing up, and, as a grown man, fairly sexist, really angry and well, frankly, still somewhat impossible to deal with....wait, where was I going with this? Oh, yes. Right. He's come into his own in recent years and has developed a more sensitive, caring side. He's always been whip-smart intelligent and creative, but he's also developed discipline and a certain sense of loyalty that I've never seen before ( don't ask me where he got it because I couldn't tell you; sometimes I think his adolescence was worse than mine. And that's SAYING something). While I don't get to talk to him that often, we do keep in touch and we love each other, and he's gone out of his way to show it in the past few years, which I can honestly say really is a relief and blessing, given the hell-bent path of rage and self-sabotgage he'd been on from age, oh, say 14 to 24.

So maybe it is understandable that when a girl breaks his heart and leaves him broken and busted on the side of the road to go fuck his best friend ( or should I say, former best friend, who insinuated himself in with the girl when there was a bit of trouble and telling lots of my brother's confidences and doubts back to her, making himself the more appealing, "caring" guy--) and I get a 2 hour and 25 minute phone call from him today with him alternately verge of tears and murder, that I might just feel like going and mowing this little chickie down myself. WHO is this little bitch who is running him over like that, right over this little tiny sprout of a healthy start ?

*Sigh*. I'm just crushed for him. He was really trying. And he really loved this girl.

When he called, I tried everything I could. That he had better character than this guy, that this guy will turn around and do it to the girl eventually when he finds what he thinks is better, they'll both be sorry....that it was good he didn't beat the dude to a bloody pulp, can we think of strategies to contain things when you feel out of control? He's not worth going to jail for, take it one day at a time, lean on your supports, you can call me any time you want. I don't know if it worked. I think it was good that I was there to listen. I suggested he go talk to a counselor, which of course was vetoed right off the table. ( Apparently one of his buddies has, and it helped him alot, and Brother refers to him as "the smartest guy I know", but it still isn't appealing to him).

And of course my parents aren't going to make any kind of intervention in that way because well, they just won't. I'M the sick one in the family, after all.( Nevermind that we're all genetically related --although if anything, I'm the one who has been the sickEST; for whatever reason THAT is, I couldn't tell ya. I hit the genetic jackpot, I suppose--and depression and chemical dependency is rampant. ). Everyone else is just a *little* bit down or drinking or whatever. Yeah. It's FINE, and under control.....

Needless to say, I'm worried.

Still, I'm glad he called me. He said he called me because he knew I "knew what it was like to be at the edge and feel this way." Of course I do, I said. I know what it's like to feel like you're not sure you can control your own actions because of the way you feel. I mean, I've been in the hospital.

I know, he said.

I told him that whatever he had to do right now to not do something he couldn't take back later was okay. You wanna go drink? Go drink. You wanna slack off at work? Slack a little. You need to call your friends 300 times a day? Go on.

But know when you're in over your head and when that's not enough. Please.

He just feels like this girl was his only chance at happiness. She isn't, but right now, he can't see that. He's struggling. I know exactly where he is, and I know exactly how it feels. I REALLY do. Maybe this is the thing that will turn it around for him for better or worse in his life, permanently. I just hope it's for the better.

But knowing he's there without half of the tools I had? Just makes me a little sick to my stomach with worry.

And like flying home and tracking down this snake in the grass and this little tramp and knocking them both in the teeth, just so he can feel a little better.

What can I say? He's still my little brother. I still want to make it all okay for him and not as hard as it was for me. Even if he is a PITA.


Part II

I've never been an Angelina Jolie fan. Sure, she's a great actress. Lately, she's honestly even fashioned herself into some sort of real humanitarian. But she's always been as crazy as a loon, what with the cutting and the brother-kissing at the Oscars and the Borderline Personality Disorder-like sketchy-ness. The accumulation/procreation of as many children she can drag all over the world at one time isn't endearing to me, either ( unlike the rest of America, I see it as her trying in some way to fix a hole with people that she can't fill on her own--which by the way, is a very BPD thing to do. Call me whatever you want. One of those kids will have a tell-all to beat ALL tell-alls by the time he/she's outta high school, I guarantee it.).

But what really gets me is the man-stealing. Granted, you can't steal a man who doesn't want to be wooed away, but ethically speaking, what the hell are you doing sniffing around some other woman's partner to begin with? She can spin it how she wants to spin it, and they can sell all the copies of People Magazine they want with pictures of their pretty babies, but let's face it: Brad left his wife for her, and that's the end of the story. Did he and Jen have problems already? Probably. Would they have gotten divorced anyway? Maybe. I don't know, I wasn't there, but the whole thing REEKS of a situation where some snake slithered her way into being a confidante to a man who was unhappy in his marriage, and made what she had to offer look like everything he ever wanted. So instead of being a stand-up guy, and saying "I need to work on my marriage, go away", he split. In her mind, I'm sure her conscience can still be clean, knowing that she didn't ( as she affirmed in interviews later) ACTUALLY seduce him or sleep with him while he was hitched. He left first, after all. She was just there to catch the fallout, and then fairies and stardust and magic happened. Right?


The reason I bring this up is that I find myself feeling like I want to be a little snake-like lately, and god DAMN it, that feeling is hard to resist when you're attracted to someone. I can think of nothing but Angelina when I find myself drifting very close to the line of snakey behavior.

Here's the deal:

There's a guy.( Of course). He's from STL. He works with me at Bookseller. He just moved here a few months ago. We have likely been in the same circles for years and just never met, I think; he's an actor, his dad is an actor, his on/off girlfriend went to college where I went to college, WHEN I went to college AS an actor. Right now, he's going through a really depressive patch, hating LA and loathing his life, being sullen and mopey ( and a little drink-y; not that I can't relate). Of course, he's also what, if Sassy were here, would laughingly pick out of a crowd of a 1000 men and label Jessica's Type: Tall, Dark, Thin, and Handsome, With Problems.

In short, he's my heroin. God help me. The minute I laid eyes on him I KNEW: This. Is. Going to be a PROBLEM. Not good for me, but oh man. Soooooo sweet.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not stupid; this is no Anthony type. He's not that fucked up or mean or broken. He's just got that I'm-just-immature-in-key-areas-enough-to-make-a-relationship-a-total-pain-in-the-ass thing going. I SO don't NEED that. Too bad for me, for WHATEVER reason, TO me he smells like ( as Cherry put it) "gumdrops and feathers", which leaves my phermones flooding all of my reasoning skills. ( Which begs the question: why am I always chemically dragged pants-first to the Dark Men with Problems? Why?? Can I change it? WHAT IS IT?!?!?!?) PLUS I have to be around Mr. Gumdrops and Feather-Pants for 8 hour shifts at a time, a couple of times a week.

Then there's the girlfriend.

Oh, yeah, her. HER. Who lives 2 hours away in La Jolla and is driving him crazy with a "we need a break" thing every six months and her unwillingness to move HERE. He recently laid down the law with her and said, "We're done til you decide what you want."

How do I know that?

Well, let's just say I'm highly sympathetic. You know, he's got no friends here. I totally get where he's coming from on long-distance things....and GOD, those girls from my school in That Program......let me mention that I am always available to talk. And so forth.


I'm being rotten. Very, very rotten.

Likely, it will come back to bite me in the ass. First of all, he's not stupid by any stretch of the imagination, so the light-bulb is going to come on at some point, if not some workplace gossip turning to his attention to what is readily apparent to everyone else, first. Secondly, there's no indication he's even remotely noticed I'm actually a girl. Thirdly, who wants a guy who's in mope-around-over-the-last-chick mode? Lastly, there's me.

Me, because I feel like shit about me. I feel less like shit about doing this little Come-to-Me dance than I will when I will likely fail at it. (I know, that sounds awful, which is even worse, morally speaking.) But I FEEL awful lately: unnattractive, old, fat. I can't seem to emphasize it enough to the people around me, but I feel like I'm just completely having an internal meltdown over this and the age issue this year. So, when this stupid little game I'm playing doesn't play out with him ending up madly in love (or lust. I'll take lust) with me, I'm going to be crushed. He already- for reasons unknown- has not returned a text from last week and a call from this week and I'm standing around alternately self-rightoeously fuming and feeling rejected( which is retarded, since what kind of little script is running here in my head?!?!). WHAT FOR? I'm not even anything to this man yet. I'm just some girl who is awfully nice and sweet and concerned, that he met less than a month ago, that he barely knows.


Fucked up. Don't think I don't know it.
We all need therapy. My brother, his ex, me, Brad, Angelina......if only they gave group discounts. 'Cause I'd really like to hear what everyone has to say, frankly. God knows it couldn't hurt.

Bleh. Bleh. Bleh.